Playing With Fire
by TTluv19
Summary: With her eyes void of emotion, and her expression carefully steeled, Eliza touched her husband's wet cheek and lifted his head, forcing him to meet her gaze once more. She found regret, and heartbreak and swimming tears, but that didn't stop her from uttering her next words, "I'm erasing myself from the narrative, Alexander. I hope you're happy." A one-shot in which Eliza breaks.


**Playing With Fire.**

Fire was always such an intriguing concept to Eliza. Even as the woman sat by it now, in nothing but a thin cotton night gown, she noted how brightly the flames roared. She could remember sitting, or- more accurately- playing by the fire with her sisters as their mother tirelessly tried to get the trio to calm down so she could brush their hair before bed. The kind hearted woman had always been warned not to play with fire, figuratively- and literally since Peggy had accidentally burnt one of her dresses as a young girl.

But the danger didn't take away the flames' beauty or warmth.

The dancing light was what drew the moth in.

But if one were to get too close, the kind woman reached out her hand to test her theory, they would be burnt. Eliza quickly pulled her hand away.

That's what her husband had done to her.

To their family.

But had he really been that bad to her health? How could she marry something so dangerous and yet not know it?

The woman with long ebony locks got up wordlessly, a grim line set across her face, and reached her personal drawers. She pulled out a small wooden box, made of oak and embroided with white delicate lace, before returning to her spot by the fire.

She placed the box in front of her, atop the hard stone floor, and stared at it. She knew it's contents, the box was a thing of novelty and nostlagia after all. Yet she couldn't smile at it, not like when she'd open her drawers searching for one thing and stumble upon it accidentally during her search.

No, all she could do was scowl at it.

Much like when she'd finally come to terms with the words that her husband had published earlier that week. It was a funny thing, but not really, that she hadn't read the Reynolds Pamphlet until earlier this day. No wonder Alexander had been avoiding her, leaving earlier for work and taking on any extra hours.

He'd been observing her every reaction, and for good reason she'd give him that, but he probably hadn't realised it would take her this long to read the thing that would ultimately tear them apart. Her sister Angelica had probably read it before she had, and she was in _London._

She felt as though someone was playing a sick joke on her. And the dark that she had once found comforting, almost calming, seemed to strangle her- the only light source in her chambers being the small, luminous fireplace.

Why hadn't he told her personally that he'd been unfaithful?

How could he hide something so huge from her?

How could he possibly carry on for years like nothing had ever happened?

And why did she always fall short when it came to him? She furrowed her brows further at that. She'd never been just enough for him.

And it broke her to know that he was her only weakness, the man she loved was the only real person who could wreck her in such a way, make her doubt herself is such a way.

In doing this, destroying the life they'd built from scratch together, had he finally set her free?

She rolled her eyes as a bitter laugh escaped her lips and broke the silence within the dark room.

He hadn't, because despite everything she still loved him.

And she knew she always would. She'd given him too much.

She'd given him her heart, her faithfulness, her trust, her blind loyalty, several beautiful healthy children, her love.

The woman let out a shaky sigh.

She may despise his as of now but she couldn't possibly bring herself to not love an inch of the ambitious man she'd married. She'd fallen too hard and too fast, she was helpless when it came to him. Their marriage was built on love, not money, or power, or status. Eliza herself had been skeptical of this during their courtship but he'd always found a way to prove her wrong, like when he'd declined her inheritance and worked for their very first house in Albany.

They'd had their ups and downs of course, but they'd been happy.

Until now.

And now it hurt.

Maybe he thought that she'd just come crawling back to him no matter what he did to her heart, maybe that was the problem.

If that was the case then he'd severly underestimated her.

Eliza let her gaze fall to the small box once more, grazing her fingers against the worn lace before slowly opening it.

Every letter Alexander had ever written her was in the box. From poems and sonnets to small trinkets and even tiny love notes that used to make her weak in the knees.

The sorrowful woman emptied the contents of the box onto the floor, creating a small heap of beautiful memories.

Her eyes scanned the pile until she found the largest letter. Her eyebrows knitted together as she began to pick apart the words until she found her favorite part. She didn't even need to read it to recall the sweet sentences, they were permanently engraved into her heart.

Yet she followed his words and read it aloud to spite herself regardless.

" _And as such, my sweet girl, you are all I can think of and more. Our last meeting has me longing for our next. They say absence only makes the heart fonder, and this is certainly true of my heart. As I am unable to think of anything but you it seems only fitting you finally confess what's true of your heart, as I have done with mine. You seem to be toying with my feelings, my lovely, and that's what makes you such a challenge to me, yet I can only hope and pray you are genuine and feel the same way about me. I love you, sweet thing, and intend to wed you and remain true- if you think me worthy, of course. We can build a life for ourselves, after the revolution, and spend the rest of our years in endless bliss with many children to carry on our legacy- as well as your beautiful eyes. Adieu, Miss Elizabeth, I eagerly await your heart's response_."

Eliza's voice finally cracked before trailing off into the silence. With a bitter smile she tore the letter in two, and two again, and again and again until the letter had become nothing more than the tiny shards of her heart.

Without a second thought, she scooped them up gently, and kneeling by the fire, sprinkled them onto the flames, watching the fire disintegrate a part of her husband's legacy.

A gentle scent of smoke flew around the room and invaded her nostrils.

It was almost satisfying to watch, his empty words were crumbling into nothing before her very eyes- she had been planning this since reading the famous sex scandal known as the Reynolds Pamphlet after all.

The world had no right to her heart, and as such, history would never know how she'd reacted. No one would ever be truly sure of how much Alexander really loved her, well, _had_ loved her.

She had no idea how he felt now, but she didn't care. Her heart was too worn and angry to give him a second thought.

So she carried on; tearing apart the foundation their marriage had been built on, amongst wet eyes, although she allowed no tears to fall, and loose strands of hair and broken memories.

Amongst her saddened rage she heard the door to her chambers ever so slightly creak open. Slow footsteps echoed around the room as Eliza registered the sound of newly lit candles flickering.

The woman paused.

"Eliza, love, what are you doing alone in the dar-?"

Her husband was rarely ever speechless; so to hear him stop mid-sentence surprised her mildly.

"Betsey-" she could hear the despair in his voice, but it was too little too late.

"Don't." She spat out harshly, her tone coarse, "Don't you dare apologise, if you were sorry I wouldn't have been the last to know. Goodness; I've been carrying on all week like a fool as if nothing were amiss."

A small pause, and then,

"I-"

"How can you possibly still try to make this about _you?!_ " She screeched and got to her feet, his letters clenched in her palms, "Look what you've done to _our_ family! In clearing your name, y-your precious title, you've ruined _our_ _lives_. You selfish, selfish man!"

She turned on him just in time to see his gaze fall to the sheets in her hands.

She let out a forced laugh, "These?" She gestured to the letters, "These letters are nothing but _lies!_ Your paragraphs are no longer cathedrals! They mean nothing to me now, I-I'm done with you and your legacy-!"

"Betsey," his voice sounded oddly frantic, "be reasonable-" he tried to reach her shoulder but she flinched away from his touch as if he were hot metal.

"Do not ask me to be reasonable!" She stormed up to him then, their noses nearly touching. She hoped all of her rage was radiating off of her and into his heart.

"But those letters-"

"Hold _no_ significance." The woman ground out and held the eye contact until his sea blue eyes, rich with emotion, flickered to the floor.

"I'm sure you've written better to Mrs Reynolds, anyway. Go publish them for history to perserve- oh," she felt her eyes flash, "you already have."

"You'll sleep in your office from now on, and as far as I'm concerned we're no longer lovers." She spoke quietly and bitterly, before taking in a deep breath and backing away slightly to get a better look at the man who still held her heart, as bruised as it was.

With her eyes void of emotion, and her expression carefully steeled, Eliza touched her husband's wet cheek and lifted his head, forcing him to meet her gaze once more. She found regret, and heartbreak and swimming tears, but that didn't stop her from uttering her next words, "I'm erasing myself from the narrative, Alexander. I hope you're happy."

She broke their contact, and with her back to him once more she tossed the rest of the letters into the fireplace, hoping he'd realised what he'd done.

For good measure she kicked the box, an anniversary gift from him no less, into the fireplace with her bare foot. The contact hurt slightly, but it was a relieving sensation as she was numb everywhere else.

The flames crackled all the more fiercely with the additon of splintering wood.

Her fists still shook by her sides in rage but her ragged breath had evened out.

"Apologies cannot express my pain, Eliza, but... I'm so _sorry_ for doing this to you." She heard Alexander whisper, and it broke her heart all over again because apparently he still cared. She heard his footsteps distance themselves from her until she stopped him with her voice.

"Alexander," She turned to him, silent, quick tears running down his face now. Dark eyes met blue in a flurry of sparks and anger and regret before she bid him goodbye, "I hope that you burn."

"Eliza-"

"Get out, just get _OUT!_ " She finally let down her walls and screamed, choking on a sob and chasing him out of the room. Her husband finally took his cue and swiftly turned away just before she slammed the door shut. With her back to the wood she slid down it and broke down into a silent cry she hadn't realised she'd been holding in until now.

The dancing flames were the only source of noise then, over her pathetic sobs, as she lay like a broken doll on the floor.

Amongst her scrambled thoughts, she came to the conclusion that, yes, she'd married a flame, and yes, she was paying for it. His light had blinded her, and she was only now seeing clearly for the first time.

He'd burnt too brightly, and she'd gotten too close.

She'd played with fire.

And now she'd been burnt.

* * *

 **Quick note- this is all complete fiction, yes its based loosely on historical events, but for the most part I used the musical for inspiration xD And, I obviously don't own Hamilton, lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! I'm not too good at endings as u can tell, forgive me xD I've been really inspired by simillar stories so thought I'd put my own spin on how Eliza would react to the Reynolds Pamphlet :') If you really liked, feel free to review ^-^**


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